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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791260">Simplest Radical Form</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/benignmilitancy/pseuds/benignmilitancy'>benignmilitancy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Half-Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Language, Pre-Black Mesa, Short One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:28:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/benignmilitancy/pseuds/benignmilitancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Luckily, Gordon's as inept at tutoring as Barney is at imaginary numbers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barney Calhoun &amp; Gordon Freeman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Simplest Radical Form</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Simplest radical form?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Mom, just like you said. Jesus."</p>
<p>"Why am I still seeing decimals?"</p>
<p>A rubber eraser scrubbed pink shavings over abused graph paper. "I swear to God," Barney said, "you tell me to reduce my answer to simplest radical form one more time, I'm gonna take that cheap-ass tie you bought at Goodwill and cram it so far up your poop chute you're gonna be pulling it out your throat like a fucking magic scarf."</p>
<p>Number two pencils scattered like canaries as he knocked over their holding cup, earning a pointed glare from the morning shift librarian. His temper tantrum having shorted its fuse, he slumped over the large oak desk, surrounded by neglected textbooks.</p>
<p>Gordon sniffed before tapping a finger to the page. "Simplest radical form." He'd heard worse.</p>
<p>"What's the point? My goose is cooked. They're gonna know I'm a fake when I flunk out." </p>
<p>"Now's not the time for quitter talk. Your test's in three hours."</p>
<p>"Good. Gives me plenty of time to write my suicide note."</p>
<p>"Cute of you to think Mesa will let you die in peace." Gordon patted his friend's shoulder, straightening his posture just a bit. "They're gonna read it and demand why you didn't procure an authorization signature first."</p>
<p>Barney snapped his head up, glowered with grit teeth. "You know what? Make that murder-suicide."</p>
<p>Gordon shifted uncomfortably, gripping the chair back until it creaked. "I don't know how screenings could have overlooked this."</p>
<p>"Me, neither. Must've laid on the charm in the interview."</p>
<p>"Martinson's never taught you imaginary numbers?"</p>
<p>"You think I could make it as a gigolo?" Barney asked, scratching the back of his neck. His tie was loose and swung crooked over his powder-blue dress shirt. "Least there's one job that doesn't require math."</p>
<p>"Not unless you want to get shortchanged by clients."</p>
<p>"Son of a bitch, Gordon, why you gotta take a giant dump all over my hopes and dreams?"</p>
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